“Is not this boy Vivian Bell?”
“Yes.”
“Then you shall not flog him!”
Dr. Musgrave was exasperated beyond endurance. He had been accustomed to move among his pupils like an Eastern despot, with no one bold enough to oppose him.
“This is my answer,” he said, grasping the whip, and lashing Vivian across the legs, eliciting a cry of pain.
“And this is mine!” said August Locke.
He snatched the whip from the head master, grasped him by the collar, and with all the strength he possessed rained down blows across the teacher’s legs.
Dr. Musgrave shrieked with anger and dismay. As he did so he let go of Vivian Bell.
Guy instantly drew the trembling boy to his side.
“What do you mean by this outrage?” demanded Dr. Musgrave. “Give me back that whip!”